


A Sans-ational Teacher!

by ThePunkiest



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 9,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5385782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePunkiest/pseuds/ThePunkiest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been around two years since the Monsters had popped up from the underground, and it's alot to get used to... Especially when a new Monster Professor takes over one of your classes. This work is inspired by sparkinsanity on tumblr. My tumblr: https://luminariousros.tumblr.com/ Buy me a coffee? http://ko-fi.com/A2522WO</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

‘Well, this is new,’ you thought as you sat down at your seat, eyeing the new Professor of your class. The previous instructor had quit a few months ago, complaining of stress… ‘Yeah,’ you sneered internally, ‘because boning his wife’s sister was really stressful’. You glanced at the front of the class, and saw that the Professor was idly scribbling his name on the whiteboard, neither turning around or piping up about your tardiness. 'Well,' you thought, 'new professor, new rules'. You continued to sit silently, glancing around at your class. Each person had their eyes firmly attached to the front, some of them not even blinking. A few even looked… Scared? You frowned. Something was wrong. You flicked your eyes forward to see what the Professor was writing, but found that he was- staring at you…? But wait, HOLY SHIT- HE HAD NO EYES. You violently scooted back in your seat, the metal screeching against the floor. You stared at the instructor, shocked, mouth agape. The wide grin that he wore only stretched, giving him a Cheshire cat-like appearance. “You’re late…” he said, his eyes never leaving your own. “Were you in the washroom? Stallin’?” he asked as he leaned against his desk with an easy expression. All of your brain activity stopped in place. You blanched. “I- I’m sorry… Sir,” you uttered, “The… There was traffic…” He closed his right eye and seemed to think your explanation over. Finally, he seemed to accept your reasoning and turned back to the white board, chattering lazily about the syllabus. 

The class broke for lunch, and you dug out your food from your pack. ‘A _skeleton,_ ’ you thought as you stared at him, ‘how in the hell did a _skeleton_ get on the _faculty_ list of a _university_?!’ You took a bite of your sandwich, letting your eyes roam over his… Body? Bones? How the hell did he even _function_? You felt a nudge on your arm, and looked to your left to see one of your classmates sending you a worried look. “Hey,” they said, “do you want me to tell you what he said before you came in?” You nodded eagerly and sighed out a grateful ‘yeah’. They pulled up a chair next to you and sat down, immediately grabbing one of your carrot sticks and munching on it. “Well,” they mumbled, “he’s obviously a monster. His name is sans. He said he was one of the first to come up from the underground, and that he was… a Quantum physicist.” Your eyebrows raised at that. Why would a quantum physicist be teaching your class? They had quantum physics underground? “And,” they continued, “that we don’t have tibia-fraid of asking him any questions.” You shot them a _look,_ your mouth in a straight line _._ “Hey!” they said as they threw their hands up in defence, “he said it, not me!” The professor (Sans? What kind of a name was that?) strolled away from his desk and back in front of the class, counting each person in the rows. As the last person in the first row, he handed you some sheets to pass to the next person next to you, winking as he did so. You looked away from him when you felt your cheeks reddening, and he chuckled. You clenched your jaw. You _were_ gonna pass his class.

“And that wraps it up. Read till page 30 in the text… Or don’t.” Sans snapped his own textbook shut, grinning as the class collectively groaned. He focused his attention, though, at the tardy student at the end of the classroom. He had seen her staring at him during the break, felt her eyes roaming over his bones. He had no idea if she was admiring him or thinking of ways to give him a bad time… But hey, attention was attention, right? He watched as she hurriedly packed up her things, glancing at him only once, in which he held her gaze. She blushed and quickly broke eye contact, but not before he saw her bite once of her pink lips. He watched as she dashed out of the classroom, his laughter easily reaching her ears.

You stormed out of your college, cheeks alight and boiling. How dare he?! Just because he was a professor didn’t give him the right to… to…! Humiliate you? Possibly even flirt with you a little bit?! You made a deep, vicious sound in your throat, startling some sorority girls you marched past. ‘Nope!’ you thought. ‘I am NOT going to let him intimidate me!’ Buildings passed you in a blur, and you blinked as you found yourself at your apartment door, so incensed that you made the trek home without even realizing it. Scowling, you fished out your house key from your backpack, unlocked the door, and stepped inside your meager apartment. You gently slid the door shut, and sighed as you set down your pack onto the table, rubbing your shoulders. It had been a really, really long day. You wandered over to your bed and pulled out your laptop, prepping for schoolwork. The bugger gave you homework on his _first day!_


	2. Chapter 2

You shouldn't have chosen Red Team. This, and this thought only, ran through your mind at a breakneck pace. You sped down the sidewalk, hair flying every which way, pushing yourself faster and faster. You had no idea why your Professor thought this was a good idea; especially on a Friday! You slowed to a halt and hunched over, desperately trying to catch your breath. You looked over your shoulder to see if the mob that was trailing you had caught up yet; they hadn’t, but you could clearly hear their shouts a few blocks down. You made a sigh of relief and lowered yourself to your haunches, still sucking stale air through your teeth. You looked around you to see if there was anywhere to hide, anything to hide underneath!

And!!! You!!! saw!!!

There wasn’t...

With a grunt of frustration, you pulled yourself into a standing position and took off running again, rounding a corner. Luckily, the side of downtown you were in had many alleyways and tricky turns, which made it easier to get away. You scanned the area in front of you, checking to see if there was anywhere you could hide. Not many, no, but there was a door down further on your right. The glowing neon sign on it read “Grillby’s” in cherry red, loopy letters. You mentally shrugged. Seemed like a bar. You slowed down your assault on the pavement, and stopped in front of the door. Glancing behind you to see if anybody was looking, you quickly turned the knob and walked into the establishment, gently shutting the door behind you.

You saw fire.


	3. Chapter 3

Your eyes widened and you flattened yourself against the door, trying to get as far away from the flames as you possibly could. But what you noticed after the fire alarmed you even more; THIS WAS NOT A HUMAN BAR. ‘Oh fuck,’ you thought, your body already beginning to ease into flight or fight mode, ‘oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck’. Some part of your brain was screaming to relax, that monsters had never even _tried_ to hurt a human being, but 98% of the other part was ‘holy shit that thing has big teeth why is there a horse in the corner _why are there dogs here WHY IS THE FIRE WEARING GLASSES?!’_ Your eyes darted around the bar, ogling its various attendees. The attendees stared back, equally as shocked. Your mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish out of water, and your face rivaled the fire man’s complexion. But what you saw sitting at the bar was what really, really mortified you.

Professor Sans was sitting at the bar. With a bottle of Heinz ketchup clutched in his palm.

You blanched. “I-I… Uh…” Your mind was blank as your last sociology test, and you mentally kicked yourself. “Wrong- Uh…” You mumbled, not taking your eyes off your professor, “Wrong place…” You searched for the knob, and gave it a few twists when you found it. You gave it a few more when it refused to turn properly, and full out tried to yank the door open when _that_ failed. Your professor’s grin slowly widened as he watched you struggle, and as a stress response, you slowly began to smile as well. Soon, the customers at the bar were glancing between you and Sans, him grinning widely, and you chuckling and smiling nervously. In a teeny, tiny part of your brain, you wondered if he realized that when mammals smiled at each other, it was meant as a threat. And although humans had evolved past that and the meaning of a smile changed, it still meant trouble when not in a comfortable situation. You wondered if _his_ smile was a hidden threat.


	4. Chapter 4

“Miss (L/N),” Sans said as he watched her struggle with the stubborn door. Her eyes widened as he said her name, and like most of the time he made direct eye contact with her, she paled. He could visibly see her gulp. This was just too easy.

He fixed her with a cool stare and she froze, her fruitless tugging of Grillby’s door screeching to a halt. Absentmindedly, she brought up a hand to her hair and began to tug on it, her face pale. So this is what he could count on to see when she missed some essay assignments? What a riot. “What are you doing here, kiddo?” He asked as he took a swig of his Heinz. If he were a human he would have smacked his lips together. Grillbz always had the good stuff for him. His student’s eyes glanced around the tiny pub, landing on each of the regulars, with the regulars staring at her and back at him with a morbid curiosity. Her face rapidly changed from the colour of wet paper to a bright pink, and she bit her lip. ‘Interesting…’ Sans thought, eyeing her complexion. He let his grin slip into an easygoing smirk, and be beckoned to his student, patting a barstool to his left. “No need to get un- _hinged,_ ” he said, his voice curiously smug, “Cop a spot, kiddo.”

What? You stared blankly at your teacher, face devoid of any sign of comprehension. Shouldn’t he, like… tell you to leave, or something? You squinted, pupils barely showing through your eyelids. But Sans never removed his hand his hand from the seat, and his smile never even twitched. ‘Okay,’ you thought as you slowly unclenched your death grip from the door handle, ‘Okay… What can happen? If anything we’ll have an awkward chat and I’ll leave.’ Your feet were heavy as you trudged across the polished wooden floors to the plush barstool, every pair of eyes scorching the back of your head. Unconsciously, as you neared the stool, you nudged it away from your professor with your foot, the metal screeching slightly on the floor. You hopped up on the seat, staring straight ahead of you at the… The fire man.


	5. Chapter 5

You stared straight ahead nervously, viciously aware of the heavy stares from the other patrons. You didn't dare to even glance at your professor, knowing full well that his expression wouldn't have changed. Idly, you played with a half empty ketchup bottle that sat on the counter near you. Unbeknownst to yourself, Sans was staring at you with great interest. "Kid." Sans' voice rang through the silent bar like a bell, and you instinctively flinched, embarrassed. You turned your head just enough to see him in your peripheral vision. "So," Sans drawled as he casually drummed his fingers on the pristine countertop, "Didn't know you liked monster food." You shot him an awkward, halfhearted smile for his little joke. What could you say? The bar was still dead quiet, with every sound that was previously ringing loud and true in the bar halted in the hopes of good gossip. "I-I... Uh, well... Um, I'm actually just trying to hide..." You stuttered as you looked away. Your professor didn't say a thing, which prompted you to start sweating. "I'm kinda... I'm, like, in a sort of capture the flag game. One of my professors thought it would be nice for us to get out. And, I, uh..." You hastily glanced at your professor out of the corner of your eye, saw that his expression hadn't changed in the least, and expeditiously looked away again. "I'm on red team, and we're winning, right now... 'Cause..." You pulled your bag from the floor into your lap and opened it. Inside was a stick with blue cloth tied around the top. "'Cause I have the other team's flag." You finally finished. You and Sans Sat like that for a few moments, staring at the flag. Each second that ticked by your face paled, until a tiny sound penetrated the lonely silence that had birthed between you, Sans, and the rest of the bar. Shyly, you looked up at your professor, and found that his shoulders were shaking slightly. Your eyes widened. 

He was laughing at you!

"O-oh..." You whispered as his chuckled gradually became guffaws, his deep rumbling laughter reverberating through your body. You watched him laugh, astounded. "Jeez, kid!" Sans said as he desperately tried to get a hold of himself, and clutched at his non existent belly, "If you keep that up, you'll look like me!" You drew your body away from him. Look like him? You were confused. You touched your face. What was he talking about? You Pulled your bag up from the ground again, and rummaged through it, looking for your compact mirror. When you found it, you quickly brought it to your face and opened it. A tiny gasp left your mouth.

You were pale as a ghost! Or a skeleton, as it were. You covered your moth with a palm, inexplicably paling further. Sans was laughing hard enough now for you to hear a slight clacking underneath his clothes. With a jolt, you realized that _his bones were clicking together._ But then, embarrassed, scared, and ghostlike, you began to laugh. Unlike the shocking, deep chuckles from your professor, your laughs were gentler and much more quiet. The laughter from you and Sans slowly bled away the tension in the room, and soon enough, people were chatting away and finishing their (now cold) meals. "Sorry, professor..." You said as you wiped tears of laughter from your eyes, "I've got to... _Ketchup_ with the rest of my team." And with that, you took the ketchup bottle you were playing with, and slid it across from you, where it bumped into Sans' hand. Without another word, you hopped off the barstool and left the bar, a satisfied smile on your face.

 

Sans was surprised. What a weird kid. A pun? Sans' wide grin melted into something slightly softer. Maybe he and his student would get along, after all.

 


	6. Chapter 6

You sprinted through the front doors to your university, nearly barrelling over some freshman as you ran towards your classroom. Your alarm didn't go off, and it was Sans' class today! You shuddered internally. After your bad impression last week, and the weird meeting a few days ago, you couldn't bear to be called on in front of the class. You ran through the hallways, dodging person after person, and eventually halted when you came to your classroom door. You stood outside the class for a minute to catch your breath, but eventually turned the knob. You opened the door, ready to make an excuse for your tardiness, but nary a person so much as glanced at you. Their eyes were attached to the front, much like your first class. It only took a second to figure out why.

"The textbook is American made, and only has an American perspective..." Your professor said as he scribbled on the whiteboard, his back turned to the class. A textbook floated in front of your classmates, pages slowly turning as Sans spoke. "Miss (L/N)." You gasped and flushed, though Sans never turned around to look at you. "Take a seat, kid. The day is way too nice to be early, anyway. If it were up to me," he said as he set down his marker, "I would be late, too." The textbook slowly floated back to one of your classmates, who caught it with a look of wonder on their face. You, along with the class, stared at the book in astonishment. You slid into a seat at the end, and unpacked your books, never removing your eyes from the textbook nestled in your classmate's arms.

Sans surveyed the room, filled with fascinated students. He suppressed a chuckle. If humans were that easy to impress, how was it that they won the war, all those years ago? Each student was fixated on the book, nary a thought of their professor crossing their minds. Sans closed his eyes. He'd give them a treat.

"Miss (L/N." Sans's voice boomed in the classroom, and you jumped out of your seat in surprise. "Y-yes, Sir?" You whimpered, terrified. Sans strode from the front of the class to where you stood. "Do me a favour and come out from behind that table, okay? I'll show you something." He said with a smirk. Like the incident in the bar those few days ago, every pair of eyes were on you and Sans, as you followed him to the front of the class. "Now, doll..." Sans said quietly as a strange blue aura started to appear around you, "This isn't gonna hurt. Just relax and enjoy the ride." Before you could say anything to him, a collective gasp echoed in the room. "Sh-she's floating!" A guy named Jesse said, pointing at you. Startled, you looked down at your feet and found that yes, you were a good few inches off the ground. "P-professor?" You squeaked, already beginning to lose your balance in the air. Sans had closed one of his eyes, but there were lights dancing across his face under his eyelid. "Relax, kiddo..." Sans said as he lifted you further into the air, "it's only just beginning."


	7. Chapter 7

Sans gently lifted you higher and higher with his magic, and you gradually became more and more anxious. Each inch that separated you from the ground meant a quicker heartbeat and a disgusting feeling in your stomach. "U-um, Professor?!" You said, voice high with fear. Sans said nothing, just continued to lift you higher. Your classmates stared at your slowly rising form, gobsmacked. Your body was no longer in a standing position, instead your knees were pressed tightly against your chest. "Relax." Sans murmured to you, letting your body float slightly closer to the tiled classroom floor. You squeaked when you felt your body being pulled in a different direction, and glanced down to find yourself sailing above your classmate's heads. "Whoa!" You gasped and reached down to gently ruffle a friend's hair, and they laughed as they felt your fingertips brush their bangs. You laughed as well and finally relaxed your body, no longer scared of falling to the cold floor beneath.

Sans smiled at his student. He was glad that she was beginning to trust him, and he couldn't ignore the contented feeling in his chest at seeing all of his pupils in such wonder. ' _Humans,'_ Sans thought, ' _Just like kids.'_

A few moments passed until you realized you were being lowered to the ground, and straightened your legs to meet the floor. Sans set you down gently, carefully. You whirled around to face him and threw your arms wide for a hug. "Professor!" You cried, jovial, and ran at him to wrap your arms around his form, "That was- That's-" You pulled your head away from the shoulder it was nestled in, and Sans saw that your eyes were glittering like the tiny stones from a place that he knew long ago. "You're _amazing, Professor!"_ You finally cheered. The rest of the class roared their approval, and Sans could feel himself flush. He gently pushed you away and coughed into his hand. "You guys sure are, uh... On cloud nine right now, heh." 

The day ended peacefully with a mob crowding your now popular professor. You smiled warmly at the sight, and slung your bag over your shoulder. You got halfway out the door, when you felt a hand press against your back, and turned around to see who it was. "Oh, hi, Marcia," you said to your friend, and smiled. "What's up?" Marcia smirked at you, and pressed a scrap of paper into your hand. "From Sans." She said, and walked off to rejoin the group surrounding your teacher. You gaped. What? You unfolded the paper and found it had an address on it, scribbled hastily, and was signed with Sans' name. Incredulous, you searched the mob for him, but he was totally blocked from your sight. This was weird. Why did he want to see you? Anxiety began to bubble up in your stomach. Was he angry? Upset? Or maybe embarrassed from the hug?

You tucked the scrap paper into your bra and decided to visit the address that night. You didn't want to get in trouble.


	8. Chapter 8

You sat in your apartment for a few hours until the sun had slowly bid the day a warm goodnight, and the afternoon had made way for dusk. Just before all of the colours in the sky had faded away into blacks and blues, you decided to finally make the decision to face your professor. You didn't bother to change your clothes, though; who cared what you looked like? You left your apartment with a clan of butterflies in your belly, and hailed a cab.

You stepped out onto the cold pavement with a nervous glance around you. Were you really in the right place? The houses were all quite large and pretty... had you somehow gotten the wrong address? You hadn't noticed the cab peeling away down the road until you heard the engine backfire and a _boom_ echoed through the empty neighborhood. You resisted the urge to run after the cab, screaming. You dug through your purse for the slip of paper Marcia had given you, and studied it for any mistakes. When you could find none, you sighed and viewed each of the houses, looking for your professor's home. "3498 Crescent boulevard...?" You murmured to yourself as you studied the addresses on the houses. One in particular caught your eye, as it still had it's Christmas lights up. You folded the paper and slipped it back into your purse. That _had_ to be Sans' house. You walked slowly to the front door, unhappy to even be within a mile of where your teacher lived, but sucked it up and knocked on the double french doors to his home. You barely even had to wait; the doors swung open nary two seconds after you knocked.

 You shuddered and jumped back from the door when you saw what opened the door. "Human!" Greeted a tall skeleton with oven mitts fitted over his hands. You didn't even manage to eek out some kind of confused greeting before he had whisked you inside the house and was calling someone down from the second floor. "He'll be right down," promised the skeleton while smiling (or you THOUGHT he was smiling), "And I hope you like pasta!" With that, the tall skeleton twirled away into a tidy kitchen, humming a foreign song.

You stood in the living room in shock.

You nearly reached out to the tall skeleton, you were so confused and nervous. In fact, your hand was stretched out in front of you to call him back from the kitchen, but

"It's good."

You yelped and whirled around to find your Professor lazing on his sofa. You stuttered and backed away from him, face a bright maroon. Sans chuckled and his eyes lingered for a split second on your scarlet cheeks. "The spaghetti's good. He's really improved." Sans said as he lifted himself from his lounging position.

"I... Pardon me?"

Sans chuckled and hopped off of the overstuffed couch, beckoning for you to follow him into the kitchen. The taller skeleton was busily flitting around the kitchen, adding this and that to a pot of simmering pasta sauce. "Paps," Sans said as he hopped up onto the kitchen counter, "This is my student, (F/N) (L/N)." The tall skeleton ("Paps"?) immediately halted his tweaking of the sauce and lurched forward to grab your hand. "HUMAN! It is SO good to meet you! Sans has been talking very much about you," You glanced at your professor, and, with great surprise, found him to be blushing blue, "And I have been trying to convince him to bring one of his students along for supper for a VERY long time!" Papyrus finally finished with a smile.

You broke eye contact with "Paps" and eyeballed your professor fiercely.

Just what the HELL was going on?

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a pt. 1, I'm just posting this to update and I'll be posting the pt. 2 soon.

The silence that echoed between you and your professor was deafening, despite Papyrus' rambling. You ate in silence, staring intensely across the table to your teacher, barely blinking. "And THAT is why buttercups can kill you!" Papyrus finished cheerfully, twirling a scoop of pasta onto his fork. You grunted and kept eating, never looking away from Sans. He had lost the blush and was bobbing his head to Papyrus' story, making sure to keep eye contact with you as he did so.

You were confused, but... Intrigued.

_He was talking about you at home? You barely even knew each other!_

"So, Professor," you said as you cleared your throat and set down your fork, "Was there anything you wanted to talk about?" You folded your hands under your chin, a vision of perfect innocence. Even the smile on your face seemed pure and free of malice. Sans' own smile shrank some, and you nearly raised an eyebrow in question. "Well, uh, (L/N)," Sans said as he twirled some spaghetti on his fork, "I wanted to apologize."

Papyrus glanced between you and his brother, took the cue, and began to gather up the plates.

You were sipping some lemonade when he muttered something about apologizing, and choked.

A dribble of drink ran down your chin.

Sans looked uncertain across the table, like he had just bitten into a fruit he believed to be ripe and found it to be sour. And you stared at him for a solid minute, attempting to discern what he was could _possibly_ be talking about. When you realized what he was referring to, you stood up from your seat so quickly the chair you were sitting on toppled over. You slammed your palms against the sturdy wood of the table and leaned far into your teacher's personal space. " _What?!_ " You hissed, and saw Sans shrink away from your (suddenly foreboding) form.

"I-I'm sorry for using magic on you without perm-" Sans stuttered (actually _stuttered!)_ and leaned even farther back into his chair.

You scowled even more deeply, with half of your body was pressed flush against the table, and reached out to grab your teacher's hand.

"I'm not going to report you!" You gasped, and Sans jumped. One of the conditions of the Human-Monster Treaty was that monsters could only use their magic in times of great need, and never for violence; for Sans to even subtly suggest that he believed that he had hurt you or made you uncomfortable... You blanched at the thought. 

 


	10. Chapter 10

You reached across the table and grasped your teacher's hand tightly in your own, and hoped it game him some comfort. "Professor," you said as you stared into his eye sockets, "You didn't hurt me. At _all._ " You slowed your breathing and made your best effort to look calm and rational. And you noticed the starngest thing: there were no sounds at all in the kitchen, or seemingly the whole house. You waited and saw your teacher's shoulders sink, and your hold on his fingers relaxed. But if this was the reason that he had wanted to talk with you about... Why was he still talking about you at home? As you opened your mouth to question him, with your fingers still laced together with his,

"I brought cake!"

Papyrus bustled back into the kitchen (when did he leave?) holding a lovely wrapped box aloft. He took one glance at his brother and yourself, and his eyes began to twinkle. "Oh, Sans!" Papyrus cried as he set down the cake on the counter and walked over to the kitchen table, "You should have _told me_ that you two were dating! This explains  _so much!"  
_

_What?_

You instantly ripped your hand from Sans', your face a blazing red and face contorted in fury. _He was telling his brother that you two were dating?_ Sans flinched at your rage, and stood up from his chair, his hands splayed out in front of him like a shield. "Hey, I never said that, Paps!" He said, glancing at his brother. But Papyrus was having none of it; you could _see_ tiny orange sparkles waltz around his head. "Oh, brother, this is marvelous!" Papyrus bellowed, bounding over to you, and wrapping you in a tight hug. You squawked as he lifted you from the floor with ease. You struggled slightly, shocked at the strength of a literal _skeleton._ "Hey, uh, Paps..." You heard Sans say, though your ears were muffled by Papyrus' clothing, "Maybe you should let her go." And just like that, your feet touched the ground once again, and you took a huge leap back. Papyrus' face contorted with confusion at your sudden movement, but you didn't answer him; instead, you lunged for your purse on the counter, and dashed to the front door. Before you opened the door and left your teacher's house forevermore, you glanced behind you. Papyrus had a hand reached out towards you, his face panicked and guilty. 

Sans just looked embarrassed, and flinched away from your scorching gaze.

You didn't let the door hit you on the way out.


	11. Chapter 11

The pitter patter of raindrops against the cab window was not a comfort. Your head leaned against the glass, cooling your fevered, red forehead. You shut your eyes, tired from the day's events. A headache was beginning to rouse it's fearsome head, and you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. The cabby's silence and introverted gaze was comforting, though, and you soon found yourself leaning back in the worn leather seats in which you sat. "Long day?" The cabby asked as he glanced back at you, and you raised your head to smile at him slightly. You couldn't help but notice that he was handsome; young, blonde, bright eyes despite the moody weather. His voice was calm and kind. Your smile widened when he grinned back, staring at you in the rear view mirror. "The longest," you said to him, and rubbed your neck. A blush began to worm it's way across your cheeks, and you hoped he couldn't notice in the dreary darkness of the cab. You stared out the window whilst he stared back at you, your face feeling increasingly hot, as did the back of your neck. This proceeded for a good five minutes, until the cabby said, "Hey, uh..." You turned back to him and waited for him to continue. You glanced at his hands, and found them to be tapping nervously at the wheel. "Listen, I think you're really cute," he said, although he was no longer staring at you in the rear view mirror, "and, um... My name is Himerus." Your eyebrows raised, but you smiled gently. The streetlights passed upon his face as he drove, the yellow spatters, that when caught his hair, made the strands glow golden. You bit your lip. "My name is (Y/N)," you said sweetly, and his grin was noticeably bashful, his pink lips widening attractively. You were so entranced by him that you hadn't noticed that he was slowing down. "Well, (Y/N)..." Himerus said as he turned around in the driver's seat to look you full in the face, "You're where you wanted to go. And..." You were caught in his eyes. The bright, bright piercing white lights of your neighbors' house illuminated Himerus in all of his elegance, and your breath caught. He wasn't just handsome, he was... Was...

As you sunk down your apartment door, still dazed, but caught in a profound state of glory, you stared at the tiny slip of paper in your hand.

_Himerus_

_XXX-XXX-XXXX_

_Talk to you soon?_ ♥ _  
_

 Your heat pounded hard enough that your blouse rippled. But you smiled.

' _Maybe today wasn't really all that bad,_ ' you thought, and clutched the paper to your breast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Sans have competition? He dooooo! (Though he doesn't even know that he's attracted to you yet!) Listen to this while reading, por favor: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MQ7zp_zyQHA


	12. Chapter 12

You spent the week fantasizing about texting Himerus; the way his face would light up when he would get your message, his smile, his tongue... Even In Sans' class you barely paid enough attention to write down notes. He never attempted to make eye contact, but his words were casual, as they always were. You didn't even break out of your stupor when his hand brushed yours, and he, himself, flinched ever so slightly. When Sans' class ended, you floated out of the room on a fluffy pink cloud, enamored.

As you rode home, the bus crowded with too many middle-school children, you felt that you should have called a cab. Well, _not just_ a cab... You smiled to yourself, and a couple of thirteen year old girls giggled at you when they saw the dumb grin on your face. The air was stingy with sweat, and the atmosphere was rushed; even so, you the world seemed to slow when you felt your phone buzz faintly in your pant's pocket. With a flick of your wrist, and a huge smile set on your lips, you pulled your phone from your pants and smiled... But frowned when you saw it was a text from one of your classmates.

**_Lizette_ ✯:**

_hey girl prof skelstein called after you today_

 

You sighed and huffed in disappointment.

 

**_You:_ **

_oh i didn't hear_

_why?_

 

**_Lizette_  ✯:**

_idk but he sounded kinda concerned_

_u gonna go back?_

 

**_You:_ **

_nah_

 

You sighed again and rolled your eyes. Just because he was a professor didn't mean that he had the right to talk to you; after all, you were an adult, and you could make your own decisions. Besides, what he did was off the scales weird. The bus jarred suddenly, and you stumbled into somebody, cursing as you accidentally stepped on their foot. You glanced to your right to apologize, but your breath stuck quick in your throat.

You had accidentally bumped into a freakin' _lizard._

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I..." You said, as you stared at the scales of her face. They glinted in the tired sunlight and made her out to be a yellowy-orange hue. Your eyes searched her body, examining her from toe to spectacles... And as you caught her pupils from behind the glass, her eyes strangely human, you were shaken out of your shock. "I'm sorry," you said with finality, and turned back to your phone. You heard a tiny, muffled apology, and you checked out again completely. With a bite to your lip and a red slash across your face, you decided to make the first move on Himerus.

**_You:_ **

_hey_

 

You clutched your phone tightly, closed your eyes and took a breath. Within that time, you felt your phone buzz.

 

**_Himehotty_ :**

_hey princess_ ♚

 

You gasped like a fish out of water, and several other passengers glanced at you.

 

**_You:_ **

_what's shakin good tastin?_

 

 **_Himehotty_** **:**

_not much_

_thinkin bout chu ツ_

 

You clapped your hand over your mouth as your brain absolutely _flooded_ with dopamine, and you let out an excited squeal. This time, the strange lizard-dino hybrid glanced at you. You held your breath to decrease your heart rate, and quickly answered him.

 

**_You:_ **

_good..._

 

' _Ohhhhhhhh, yeah,_ ', you squealed internally to yourself, ' _Sans can deeeeefinitely wait!'_


	13. Chapter 13

It had been a full week since you had started to totally ignore Sans (and began dating Himerus). You barely acknowledged your teacher, only glancing at him when he called on you in class. And even then you gave short, quick answers to his questions. Since Lizette had told you that he had called after you, you did not try to ask him what he wanted. You didn't care. As Sans passed out an assignment that had been due last week, he called you up personally. His gaze was cool. "Hey, (L/N)," he said as he handed you your assignment, "I expect better from you next time." You took the paper with a furrowed brow, and flipped it over. You gasped, and felt tears well up in your eyes when you read your score.

43%.

Shame welled up from your toes and a knot formed in your belly. 43%. You didn't dare look at Sans, so you scuttled away to your seat, and sat down.

You tried very, very hard not to cry.

But soon enough, a few hot tears escaped your eyes and dropped onto your test. Was this why he wanted to talk to you last week? You felt your shame and embarrassment double and hung your head low, the tips of your hair touching the paper.

You had to talk to Sans.

The class filed out slowly as usual. Quite a few of your classmates stopped to talk with your professor, and so you waited. And waited. Finally, when the last person walked through the door, you picked your head up and looked at Sans.

He looked expectant, leaning on his desk. You rose from your seat and walked to him, cheeks bright. As you got closer, his smile dimmed and his eyes looked sorry. "Oh, come on, kid. You didn't do so tear-able." You didn't smile at his pun. Your embarrassment only grew. "I'm sorry, Professor," you whispered, and tears spilled from your eyes again, "I'm sorry." Sans' smile grew gentle, his eyes understanding. He pulled the test from your fingers and looked it over once, twice. "Are you understanding the theory? Deterrence? Frustration? Positive?" He asked, pointing out all of your wrong answers. You nodded meekly, but your eyes were still downcast. "Yes, Sir. It's just the dates and the creators that mix me up." You said, ashamed. Sans made a little huffing sound, and looked at your test again. Then, he closed his eyes and seemed to make a decision."I could help, kid. If you wanted me to." He said, and his smile broadened when your head shot up. "What?! Really?!" You gasped, already feeling excited. Sans chucked and handed you your paper again. "Sure, just don't expect any babying. I'll be sure to really tear into you." He said with another laugh and a sparkle in his eye (literally). For the first time in the day, you smiled and hugged him. "Thank you, Professor Sans! You won't regret this!" You pulled away from him, and looked him in the eyes, giddy. And with that, you ran out the door.

He was nice to give you a second chance.

You didn't realize that one of the puns that he made could be taken as sexual until you were home. You felt yourself blush again and scowled.

Damn, Sans! Back at it again with the mean flirting(?)!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are so appreciated, guys. It gives me so much motivation to work on another chapter!


	14. Chapter 14

He found you sleeping in the library, huddled up in a few aisles where you two were supposed to meet. Your backpack was propped up, used as a pillow; your jacket, a cushion shielding your tailbone from the carpeted concrete floor. And he thought, briefly, that you were some kind of prize hidden away. Your face was serene, and your breath was unhurried; Sans felt an uncharacteristic surge of calm as he gazed at you. His funny student.  
  
Too bad it couldn't last.  
  
Sans walked to where you were laying, and sat down near your feet. As he leaned against a tall, metal bookcase, he began to read aloud gently. His voice was a soothing tone, deep and baritone and kind. In your dream, you snuggled down into a fluffy bed, smiling as your father read you a story. But as he read on and on, you didn't stir; he glanced at you and his reading slowed to a halt. Then, suddenly, a wisp of blue magic circled once, twice, around your shoe, and dived in.  
  
It took a few moments for your eyes to flutter open, and you made an unladylike squawk. Quickly tearing your shoe off, you brought it to your eye and stared into it, looking for whatever had been tickling your toes. You didn't register your teacher sitting right next to you, until you heard stifled giggles. Pulling your shoe away from your face, you were met with the sight of Sans clasping a hand over his mouth, blue tears swimming in his eye sockets. ' _Why does he have jelly in his eyes?'_ You thought briefly. But then he wiped at them with a finger, and they spilled off the bone like regular tears. "Sorry, kid," Sans gasped, wheezing, "didn't mean to scare the _sole_ outtaya!" You gawped and blushed. You pressed your lips together in a pout and slipped your shoe back on. He pushed the textbook towards you, and between breathless chuckles, explained the theories you were having trouble with. As he pointed out names and dates, you studied his hand. It looked completely normal, though the bones were thicker, like the bone also took up the space of where the skin would be on a human. You glanced back to the textbook.

' _Stop staring,'_ you scolded yourself,

' _It's rude.'_


	15. Chapter 15

Himerus had dragged you to a nightclub. Both you and he were dressed to the nines (as much as a nightclub would allow, without looking out of place), and he was pulling you through the crowd, his hand holding tightly onto yours. When he reached the centre of the throbbing mass of people, he grasped your waist and held you close. The lights were dazzling; like sun shining through crystal, rainbows flashed on every surface, on every patch of skin. Standing in the centre of the club was like being in the eye of a tornado, seeing so much movement and feeling so much heat, but being exempt from them. You smiled up at your boyfriend, and spin around, grinding your ass into his crotch. He gasped, and you imagined him hesitating to lay his hands on your body. He settled for your hips, and grasped you tightly, pulling you even harder onto his body. You groaned, and then giggled with wanton pleasure. Himerus bent down and nipped your earlobe, running his tongue along the soft flesh. You laughed and swatted him away, turning around to face him once more; he was grinning like a drunkard. Gently, you released his sweaty palm and motioned away from you. He nodded, and blew you a kiss. 

It took a while to fight your way back to the edge of the club to the bar. The floor was sticky; each time your heel got caught, you swore inwardly and shuddered. As you pushed your way passed a group of hilariously drunk middle-aged women, you sighed in relief. 

The bar was right over there.

You hurried to a barstool, your feet aching from your heels, and planted your butt on a neon yellow seat. You threw your elbows up on the countertop and rested your head in your hands, waiting for the bartender. You let your eyes close for a moment, appreciating the calmness of the outskirts of the human throng, and opened your eyes to find-

Your eyes widened.

"Sweet Jesus," you hissed, and sat back.

At least he worked the outfit.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically this, with a bowtie and some blue: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/b4/55/cd/b455cd06da1389b332bc6099da7e92cb.jpg

For a moment, you couldn't think. Because it wasn't supposed to _work._ The outfit wasn't supposed to look _that good_ on someone; especially not a someone with no flesh. But nah, he looked _hot._ Sans stood in the tiny bar, idly wiping a shot glass clean. A simple bartender's outfit adorned him, but with silky strands of blue woven in. A flick of the lights in his eyes to you, and he was chuckling. "Nice to see ya, kid," he said, setting down the glass to dry on a rack behind the bar. He leaned against the counter, the rag tucked in his pant's pocket, and you had the sudden feeling that he was standing on a stool. Your eyes flicked to the little bowtie at his neck, and felt a smile worming onto your face. "I- uh..." You stuttered as Sans raised a brow bone, waiting for your order. "P- Peach Crush, please..." You murmured as you took a seat on a stool. Sans chuckled a little and turned away to make your cocktail. You watched him pour the booze, juice, and the ice. He was very good at it. You rested your head on your palms and stared. He was brutally efficient, in the way that some people were; he had no flair, but made your drink quickly and without fuss.

"Here," he said, and slid your drink to you on a coaster. You smiled. "Thank you, Professor," you said, and he closed his eyes in ease. He leaned against the counter again, the very picture of relaxation, and watched you take a sip. "Oh!" You said, as something explode on your tongue. Sans snorted and picked up another shot glass to clean. "Monster magic. Open your mouth." With a confused stare, you slowly parted your lips.

_Something whizzed out of your mouth!_

You gasped and snapped your mouth shut again, and watched as a tiny firework exploded right in front of your eyes. Your jaw dropped. "What the fu-" You began, but mini fireworks kept flying between your lips, and you couldn't find it in you to shut your mouth again.

You saw Sans smile as he watched you, bursts of colour reflecting off the glass of the various bottles, and lighting his face up in rainbow hues. You tried to surpress you giggles, but found it impossible; you dropped a hand to your mouth and held it there as you laughed. Sans looked content.

 

And you were, too.


	17. Chapter 17

Chatting with Sans was fun. As a few days passed since you had seen him at the club, you began to see him in a less formal light; after all, who could take their teacher totally serious when they found out they worked as a bartender in a _nightclub_? So although you allowed yourself to be marginally more casual when speaking with him, you never quite wavered from the 'pupil' role. And Sans, in return, although his behavior hadn't changed at all, joked with you a little bit more.

It was refreshing.

 

Your hand was cramped to all hell. Finals were coming up in a week, and Sans (being the ever dutiful _professor_ he was), had decided to review everything he had taught the class in great detail. Although you had your original notes, you found that writing them out helped you retain the information. So, you sat in your regular seat at the front of the class, hand moving so quickly that your writing came out garbled and sloppy. You bit your tongue as you worked, entirely focused on Sans' words. So much so, that you completely missed Sans calling on you.

"Miss (L/N)," Sans chuckled as he let his eyes roam away from the other end of the class, "refill your lead soon. Keep writing as much as you are, you'll find yourself coming up empty." The class snorted in laughter, eyes trained on Sans as he delivered the joke. You sneered playfully as well, attempting to hold back your smile. He continued on with the lecture, speaking slowly enough for you to refill your lead without missing too much.

Things were comfortable, and you were happy. It was strange to come to the realization that your teacher was a regular person (even though he wasn't _technically_ a person), but you pushed that thought to the back of your head. You stood up as Sans sat down, calling for a break. The change in atmosphere was immediate. People relaxed, and stretched; food was pulled out of backpacks and book bags. You, yourself, yawned and scratched an itch that had been bothering you for half an hour. 

You blinked lazily and looked around, staring at your classmates in a tired daze. Your eyes moved to Sans, and you found him staring at you.

_Staring at you._

your moth opened and closed, and your eyes widened in surprise. He just chuckled and leaned back in his chair, throwing his feet up on his desk.

You blinked a few times and fought away the blush that had somehow wormed itself onto your cheeks like a rash.

' _What a weirdo,'_ you thought.

 


	18. Chapter 18

You sneered as you took a gulp of your coffee; you had accidentally used too much Splenda, and now your drink was a mixture of honey, and disgusting bitter-sweetness. Your butt was sat firmly in a chair in one of the more classy coffee places at your campus, breathing in the scent of coffee pods, cakes, and teas. You had often thought about bringing a date here, sitting at the only table and chatting aimlessly about your career goals. Now, however, that dream was all but crushed; Himerus would never have the time to get coffee with you, now that the fight for extinguishing Monster rights reared it's ugly head. He was forever fighting battles that weren't his own.

You smiled and stirred your drink. Oh, well.

You could always visit him, you supposed.

* * *

Waiting, you were good at. But, you didn't know exactly _why_ you were waiting for him; you could have gone to your friends, if you were lonely. In fact, they were probably the better choice... But you didn't truck all the way from the other side of campus for nothing.

So you leaned on a wall and waited. In a few moments, the door swung open, and his last few words, along with some of his class, bled out into the hallway. Blue, white, pink hair on the students; but then you remembered that he was teaching his "Monster Culture" class, and it all made sense. As the last few people left, you walked to the doorway. It was just before sunset; the sun was tired, and it showed. The room was basked in yellow light, and there he was, shuffling away his lecture notes. His ever-present smile was relaxed and small, and your heart felt lighter. In that same moment, he glanced up at you, and his smile grew. Before he could say anything, you walked up to him, and took advantage of his surprised expression. "Would you like to go to a bar with me?" You asked, clutching your backpack.

He was still, but then his eyes closed. "Yeah," he said, and opened them. He slid the rest of the papers into his briefcase, and motioned you forwards. "Lead on," he said.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wrote while listening to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iyy3YOpxL2k

You had left without knowing where you were going, or where you were taking him. He sat in your car, eyes turned towards flashing city lights. They illuminated his white skull, painting it like magic. " _Sans,"_ you wanted to say as you glanced at him, again and again, " _are you real? Are you magic?_ " But you didn't because the answers were yes, yes, yes. You looked away from him as you saw a streetlight change colours, from yellow to red. There was complete silence as you stopped. No radio, no conversation. Just a feeling of contentment.

But it was tinged with bewilderment. Why? Why did you ask him? Why did he accept? Where were you going? You pressed the gas pedal as the light changed again, and drove slowly. Bright, neon signs jumped out at you, flashing against your windshield, taunting you to choose, choose, choose. A pretty blue sign caught your eye, and so you slowed again, and pulled into the parking lot.

It wasn't much of a bar, really. Even from outside the establishment, it seemed to be a quiet place. You looked over at Sans to see him eyeing the bar. Then, without warning, his door swung open and he ducked out of your car. You followed him hastily, removing the keys and throwing them in your purse. He held the door open for you, and as you stepped through the doorway, you picked a good choice.

There were three other people in the bar, and each was minding their own business. You glanced at the bartender, and found him to be smiling at you. You smiled back shyly and followed Sans to the counter. "Hey, welcome to Jackie's," he said, setting down a shot glass. You smiled at him a little more brightly, and glanced at his shirt. "Ah, I'll have a Cinderella, please, Kevin," you said, and looked at Sans. He studied the booze behind the bar with lazy, tired eyes. "Have anything Monster friendly?" Sans asked, propping his skull up on his palm. Kevin smiled and replied in the affirmative, and disappeared with your orders.


	20. Chapter 20

The silence was easy. It wormed, twisted around your neck like a lazy python, settling down to rest. It was easy to get caught up in the mundane, the feeling that settled between you and your teacher. He sat next to you, on your left, sipping his drink through a straw. Kevin, the bartender, had disappeared again, leaving you two alone. "Sans," you said, the lip of the glass resting against your own bottom lip, "what is this?" 

You asked your question quietly, but it lingered, filled the space between the two of you, and set it alight.

you glanced at him, and discerned this:

He was electric.

His eye was glowing, pale blue reflecting off of the many shined items and surfaces of the bar. It made the countertop gleam blue, like the bright morning sky.

And it made you smile.

Sans set down his drink, his class tinkling against the marble countertop. Though his palm elevated his head, perched on his cheek, his gaze slowly turned to you.

His smile was taunting. Tempting. 

Ruination in a single expression.

"Kid," Sans said, voice rumbling like Zues' lightningstrikes in the silence,

"What do you want this to be?"


	21. Chapter 21

He was so strange. The way he moved, the way his expressions hardly changed.How he could be so close to being human, but so unlike them astounded you.

But perhaps, that was the goal of all monsters; to be accepted into modern society, while still keeping their identities. A sort of specie melting pot.

But, the question of the moment was, did you want it?

he was offering you a choice. become his for a night, forget what you were, what he was, and become one.

Or, embrace your society's culture. Shy away from the unknown, return to normalcy and safety.

You stared into his eye sockets, perhaps expecting answers from them; the neon blue, and bottomless ebony.

You bit your straw.

He knew what that meant.


	22. Chapter 22

You were not foolish enough to believe that the night would change your relationship with him, nor were you sure you wanted it to. No, rather, what would happen between the two of you would be like a lightning strike.

Electric. Burning. Passionate.

(A disaster?)

Sans had slapped down $40 for your drinks, more than what you owed. His hand casually brushed yours, ever so slightly, but you were shocked.

Quite literally.

And in an instant, gone.

* * *

 

You landed in a bed. A soft, clean bed that smelled like expensive cleaning detergent and softener, and promptly made a fool of yourself by flailing like a fish out of water. You didn't understand how you got there, but of course, didn't question it too much. Because it was Sans.

Of course it was Sans. It was always Sans. 

But you opened your eyes, quickly, and saw the night sky. Constellations winked back at you, some with golden threads to form their shape more clearly. And then, you looked across the room to your teacher, who was pulling his sweater over his head.

Oh, sometimes you forgot that he was all bones.

In the dim light of his bedroom, he gleamed, just as brightly as the stars on his ceiling. His bones were blanched and perfect, though thicker than a human's, and looking more sturdy. Your eyes roamed northward, to his face.

He was grinning, naturally. But... His teeth looked sharper. He  _felt_ older, suddenly, and you were struck with a feeling of youth. His presence, even across the room, gave off the feeling of an ancient danger, a certain immorality that writhed into your nerves.

Because he was a farce. A joke, a jape of Humanity's dead; to be so close, and so far.

You licked your lips.

"Sans," you whispered, voice sterling in the silence, 

"Sans, how will this work?"

his grin streeetched, and he was a demon, with his lack of humanity. He unzipped his slacks and let them pool around his skeletal feet, before taking a step forward.

"Let me show ya."

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

It felt like he was coaxing something out of you. Slightly tugging on something deep inside of your chest, but hindered by the flesh of your body. With confusion you raised a hand, and placed it between your breasts. "Sans, what are you doing?" You asked, pressing down on your skin. The tugging persisted, perhaps even worsened, and so your pressure on your chest increased. You didn't know what was happening; but whatever was trying to come out of you, it had to  _stay there._ Sans raised his hand slowly, his bones a dull grey in the dark, and held his palm up in front of him. He slowly curled his fingers, the sound of bones grinding together made you shiver, and his hand formed a fist. He slowly "tugged" on something, and you understood: that feeling was  _his fault._ You opened your mouth to tell him to wait, just a minute, please! 

Your lips quivered with the words, your chest emptying out of itself, when light shone.

It illuminated Sans and yourself, glowing dimly in the dark. You would have compared it to a child's nightlight that needed to be pushed into the plug more; the light was hardly enough to see by. 

But more important than seeing around you, was that Sans had popped out your damn  _soul_ like grabbing an apple from a bowl. 

You had a brief moment of primal fear, wanting to stalk over there and snap his arm for ever  _daring_ to remove your soul from your body. For an instant, your soul pulsed and shone a bright brighter, signalling your rage.

And Sans only chuckled.


End file.
